Slow Grind

I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I’m grinding to a stop again. Work is slow, but that’s fairly normal. Family life is an uphill push, but that is also normal, particularly during grey, wet and cold February. Covid has kept Y and me isolated, with only a few brief chats in the doorway with the excuse of running an errand, but masked up and at a distance over the last 2 weeks.

I started writing this last night. Since then, Y has tested negative and we were able to spend some time together again. I’ve also had a therapy session, hunting for whatever made me feel overwhelmed and ready to creep away somewhere and hide.

We got somewhere when I started listing the things that felt like they were too heavy for me to carry on my own. My daughter and her emotional instability came up quite a few times.

She has had a hard couple of weeks. First, I misunderstood how she felt about her half term school report, which is better than it has been, but not great all the same. French remains a big problem. She was pleased with herself, but I misunderstood her, because of a typo and because I was doing three things at once again. For her, it seemed as if I was only seeing the weaknesses, although she’s overcome so many of her previous difficulties. Although the misunderstanding was quickly resolved, she had still been hurt and it left a bit of a dent.

Then she had her first therapy session. It was hard for her, although the session centered around gathering the facts – where she lives, who her siblings are, parents, grandparents, school history, interests and talents, etc. Just being reminded that she is struggling with certain things left her utterly exhausted for the rest of the day and beyond.

Her reaction and the fact that such a small issue had thrown her off track so forcefully put me into a kind of hyper alert state, trying to read her every move and be there for her if I could at all be of any help, tracking her energy levels and moods and trying to be wherever she might fall before she falls.

I had already noticed that she mirrors me. If I’m having a bad phase, it rubs off on her and pulls her down. Apparently, it works the other way around too. I mirror her as well, and maybe that is why everything started feeling too heavy for me.

My therapist had something helpful to say about the whole thing. Of course there are deeper layers to this, but he said that first of all, what I can help with is calm. And to help her calm down, I have to calm myself, or even better, stay calm right from the beginning.

So next time I’m going to try and put extra focus on being calm myself. I don’t usually struggle with being calm. In fact, I’m so used to people admiring my calmness and feeling calmed by me doing absolutely nothing apart from being me, that I don’t always notice when I’m not calm – especially if I become unsettled little by little.

I hope that just knowing that it is a good idea to seek calm whenever I’m confronted with something that could be unsettling will help us both, my daughter and me. If there’s one thing I’m really afraid of, it’s spiralling out of control myself when the kids need me. Being ready, knowing what to do to prevent that from happening and maybe even removing that fear altogether will be a huge relief.

Therapy

I started looking for a therapist at the beginning of 2021, when depression threw me off my feet and made it very clear that I didn’t want to carry on dragging myself out of those dark holes by myself anymore. In talking to my doctor, I also realised that I have more than enough baggage that might benefit from therapy, so I felt better about it and less of a failure for needing therapy in the first place. Hadn’t the toxic men in my life always angrily suggested that I needed therapy, because there certainly wasn’t anything wrong with their perception of things, and it was clearly me who had a few screws loose and was impossible to get on with? This is one of the things that had kept me from seeking help earlier. I knew I was not the root problem, so I wasn’t going to prove them right after all by heading off to therapy.

Back at the beginning of the year, I found one therapist who could do a session with me, but it ended there.

That first session was helpful though, all the same. He confirmed again that some of my experiences were indeed traumatic and that they could lead to depression like I had. He also told me something very valuable: he said that depression is like any other illness, a flu for example. It comes and goes, but in the end, you do usually recover. Time and your body does its thing, and the weakness etc passes in the end, although it doesn’t feel like it while you’re in the middle of it. This little piece of wisdom allowed me to relax a little and be less afraid of getting caught in an episode again and not managing to get out of it by myself.

I am now with my ‘forever’ therapist, and the therapy sessions have just been approved. I see him for an hour every week. He does analytical psychology, as I want to unravel the causes of my dark phases rather than develop strategies and behaviour to deal with them better. I’m intuitively quite good at the strategies.

Therapy is an interesting experience. My therapist usually starts the session off with asking me what came up during the week. This irritated me at first, because wasn’t he supposed to be leading me to deeper understanding, and show me how to unravel whatever has got stuck in my mind? Didn’t he know the way through this murky mess? But I’ve got used to it and find something to talk about, and we get going.

Up until now, I’ve told him bits and pieces about myself, usually something associated with something that ‘came up during the week’. I decided I liked working with him after a session or two, because he listens to my thoughts and feelings, and then shows me parallels and patterns to something I said earlier, or even mentioned off hand some sessions earlier. I felt he was working me out quite quickly, and reckoned that would be a good thing for somebody who’s job it was to work me out, then sort me out.

I’ve noticed that there’s a pattern. The sessions aren’t quite as random as I first thought. He closes the session by summarizing what we’ve been talking about, and puts it in a way that makes me continue thinking about it a little bit differently than the week before. So without even noticing, I spend time between sessions mulling things over, remembering things, and seeing them in a different, more distanced and reflected light. Just that by itself opens up a different level of understanding of myself and the way I feel and think about things.

Until now it’s felt very easy, as it happens by itself. Understanding things better actually makes me feel more peaceful. He warned me though that there would be times when it would get tough, and I might want to quit. So I feel I should leave room for that to happen and not feel too optimistic about the whole process just yet.

So far though, it feels like a slow and steady house clean. You open up a drawer, sort out what’s in it, put some of the things in a different place, others you fold and put back, and some get thrown out. Then on to the next drawer, until it’s all neat and clean.

I’m still on the first drawer at the moment, and it’s quite a big one. I wonder how far I’ve got with it already, and how much more I’ll find that’s been hastily stuffed in to keep it out of sight.

Keeping Depression at Bay

Christmas last year was break down time for me. It started with a small trigger, which sent me into a spiral of mess. Heavy thoughts persistently roared through my head, shutting me down on the outside. All I could do was sit on the floor and fit the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together – it kept my fingers and my mind busy so that I wouldn’t listen to the accusations and blame flying around in my head too much, while I waited for the storm to pass.

Since then, I’ve got myself therapy, and I’ve learned to see depression like any other passing illness, like a cold. It comes, it feels horrible, but as a rule, you recover at some point. You may feel weak for a bit afterwards, but everything will be back to normal given time and patience for recovery – even if it takes weeks, months, or even years.

It raised its ugly head again this year. The combination of work being heavy and feeling done with the never-ending fights I have to have there, together with the days getting short and dark makes a small trigger a lot stronger than it would usually be.

On top of that, Y had been cancelling plans often, which robbed me of a wall of stability. By the time I brought it up because it was bothering me so much I couldn’t ignore it any longer, I had been collecting my injured feelings in a safe, locked place. When they came out, they were already a raging storm, and came as an attack out of the blue.

It’s a good thing I had a therapy session just after that. He helped me separate my inner reactions from the facts, and I’m beginning to understand myself better, and why some little things hurt me more than they should.

I feel like I saw the dark pit, and came right to the edge to look down – but I managed to stay out of it. I made some important decisions, I’m making an effort to make more connections with people and I’m taking part in real life instead of living in my head. Facebook and Instagram has disappeared off my phone. I am letting go of feeling every one of Y’s decisions as a reflection on how he might be feeling about me, about us. I know it’s not, so why let my very own patterns of feeling injured in certain situations make me form the worst possible assumptions?

I’m feeling quite proud of myself for staying out of it this time, although I was emotionally exhausted, and there was a trigger that could have sent me over the edge.

I’m still exhausted, but stable exhausted.

New Job, New Me

Literally. I’m being a different person than I was in my old job.

In my old job, my work was very much appreciated, but I had a defined play field. I was also never considered a leader figure, although I led quite a bit. But I lead gently… I’m not noisy about it.

With my new job, I’m entering the company as a leader. I’m expected to visibly lead, not the gentle, quite coaxing type of leading I’m used to. ‘We’re looking for your guidance here’, or ‘Please change whatever you like ; meetings, processes, structures – anything’ or the scariest of all – ‘your experience will really help us with this’

I don’t feel experienced, nor ready to guide a product I know very little about, built by a team I hardly know the names of. I’m seeing things that could be improved, but I don’t feel comfortable changing things without understanding why things are the way they are.

So I’m making an effort to be bold, believe in myself, and overcome my habit of moving slowly to begin with, observing more than I contribute, desperately trying to work out how things work in this new environment.

This is the most adult I’ve had to be in my whole life, I think…

Taking things easy

Good Stuff

I’ve been offered a fantastic new job, in a new company. The conditions are the stuff of dreams, and they really want me on board. I feel they are a wonderful fit for me, and they seem to think that too.

At the beginning of the week I told my direct manager about it. The conversation was an awkward breakup conversation, and ended with him saying that he would see what he could do to convince me to stay.

I haven’t got the final contract yet, but I should have it in a few days. I told my manager that I hadn’t signed yet, but that my mind was pretty much made up, because the offer is far too good to walk away from.

Today was the day he was going to get back to me with a “retention” offer. He had also got his manager involved, who knows the space the new company operates in, to give an honest opinion of what I was getting myself into.

I trust these two guys. They are honest people who sometimes hide their intentions in the interest of their professional role, but they both have a good soul. So I was getting really nervous. What if he knew about something I hadn’t spotted? What if he had insider knowledge that showed that the new company want all it seemed? I would have to go back to the drawing board, and decide whether I was still going to leave under the assumption of a definite risk.

However, he was sad to report that he had only heard good things about the new company. The retention offer was nothing really, just a personal promise that if I stayed, I would have their support to be promoted to product director at some point in the next few years.

So now, my mind is set. After 9 years, I’ll be starting a new job, and I’ll start it as a senior member of the new company. No more little me. It’s Miss Bigboots now. Miss Bigboots will feel every mistake she makes, but she’ll also feel everything she does right. Miss Bigboots is going to be able to stretch her wings and fly, in a role that she’s already proven to be good at.

I’ve already started work wrapping up. When I’m gone, I want things to have my name on them – in a good way. Not like the tech director I like to cite as am example of how not to do things, because he was an incompetent prick with a way of not only not getting things right, but making decisions so bad that 4 years later, they can still be felt. I want to leave the opposite of that behind, and to do that, I have to tie up a lot of loose ends mighty quick.

I’m really excited about the change. It feels a little like moving into my first own home. Now, I’ll be on control of things. I’ll be able to develop my very own style and grow up. The kids are sharing my excitement, because they understand that this is a big step – even if they don’t quite get the details. Y is proud to burst – he makes me feel very special, especially when he dives into my excitement with me. He makes every accomplishment feel more valuable, just by sharing the happiness I’m feeling and getting genuinely excited on my behalf.

I truly feel blessed all around.

Drained

I received some awesome news on Friday. I’m not quite ready to talk about it, but I spent the whole day of Friday bubbling with excitement. Imagine random jigs and sudden squeals every few minutes…

Since then, I’ve been feeling drained. Not because I’ve changed my mind about the news I received – simply because being that excited tired me out.

Now, I also have to start serious work and adapt to this change. It’s slightly frightening and like jumping into the unknown.

This is how my mind works, and I’m glad I can see it and accept it for what it is. Too much emotion – in either direction – wears me out. Upcoming change puts me on high alert, which also drains me. Stoicism suits my mind better. Thank goodness summer holidays are coming up, and thank goodness I have some time to get ready to jump. I’ve also got a summer music project going on, which I think will become invaluable for my mind to just focus on other things regularly. I’m singing in a summer production of an operetta, and doing as many shows as I possibly can – about 20 scheduled so far. This will give my mind a break from worrying and feeling the strain of change and excitement, I hope.

I guess this is what self care is… Knowing your mind, understanding it’s reactions, and giving it the space it needs for whatever work or recovery it will need to do.

Proud of Myself

A few weeks ago, a headhunter wrote me a well researched and friendly message on LinkedIn, which is a rare occurrence. This lady had obviously read my profile (!), understood details of my experience (no!) and matched it with her requirements very well (unbelievable!).

…just for reference – usually, these messages refer to some knowledge I had 10 years ago, at a totally wrong level of expertise, and asking for a profile that is miles away from anything my profile suggests I might be moderately good at. These headhunters sometimes receive rude answers from me, if I can be arsed.

Anyway, now I’m in the middle of the interview process, and I’m feeling so empowered and proud of where I have got to professionally. I don’t need this job. They need somebody like me to fill it though, and I am bringing so much to the table.

All those years of struggling to make myself heard and of asserting myself and my ideas were not for nothing, because now I actually know what I’m talking about. I’m confident, I know what works and what doesn’t, and I know what I’m good at, and what I need support with.

I’m not striving to paint a glittering picture of myself, because if they don’t want me, I don’t need them anyway. I’m being totally honest and transparent, and they’re liking what they’re seeing (… mostly hearing) a lot.

It’s an amazing experience because I’m not trying to sell myself. It’s the ultimate confidence boost and changes the nature of the conversations completely.

It also changes how I position myself at my current workplace. I can compare myself to colleagues of course, but then, everyone who knows details about a product you don’t know so much about sounds like a wizard, especially if they use big buzzy words and play all the big company games right. It’s not the same thing, because you’re always centered around real problems, competing for people or resources, or visibility to higher management. With the knowledge that my profile is more than good enough, I’m so much more confident. I’m not the junior just-slipped-into-this-job girl. I’m good, and I know it.

I’m beginning to understand why empowered women are “dangerous” 😉

Parenting Together

I’ve never experienced parenting as a team. The only thing that used to happen was finding compromises, after long and tiring discussions between two very antagonistic positions – one of which was always wildly unrealistic, inexperienced and disconnected, if you ask me. Still is.

Now, I’m on my own when it comes to parenting, but only in theory.

In reality, Y is right there by my side. Obviously he doesn’t make decisions or interact with the kids as a parent. But whenever I hit a stumbling block, he’s there to listen, help me reflect, offer different perspectives and explore ideas with me. Most importantly, he gives me space to feel everything I am feeling without judging, although he does mirror back to me and help me decide whether my feelings are helpful for solving the issue at hand or not.

This is the first time I feel I’m not on my own in my role as a parent, and it’s liberating. It’s liberating to know there’s another caring mind reflecting on my decisions and helping me find a productive way forward when emotions are running high. If I make mistakes, he’ll be there to help me see those mistakes. He is somebody who I can turn to when I’m in the thick of it and feel confused or failing as a parent. Somebody who knows my kids (a bit), respects and cares about them as my family, knows me like nobody else, and who’s mind works in a similar way to mine. And lastly, he listens, cares, and always keeps an open mind.

Being the amazing person he is wasn’t written on his forehead when we met 2+ years ago. I simply felt safe and free of expectations then, and I valued his relentless honesty. Plus, there were no strings attached, he’s a fun younger guy, sex was (is!) amazing, and I really enjoyed the regular breaks from normal life I got with him. Now, I rely on him as a partner, a safe place and all the important relationship things and everything I enjoyed in the early stages, and most recently, he’s got himself this new role as parenting sparring partner. The fact that he has no children of his own (yet) doesn’t matter at all.

Parenting as a team is amazing. If you have that, don’t ever let go of it.

Troubled Mind

My favourite mind is troubled with nightmares, almost every night. Not me – I usually work through things in broad daylight. But I’m experiencing them, or hearing about them regularly.

I have an inkling of what’s going on, after reading a bit about dreams and the meaning of certain themes, and connecting the dots. It’s all connected to change, changing relationships and letting go.

I’d love to offer support, but I guess I might be the wrong person, as I might well be the one triggering the earthquakes in this sensitive soul.

So all I do is reach over and try to be a reassuring human presence in the middle of the invisible nightmare, and being an anchor of calm in the passing storm.

I hope they stop soon.